


Snapshots in a Frame

by soldierwitch



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-03-10 07:02:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13497120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soldierwitch/pseuds/soldierwitch
Summary: The inbetween moments, how we get from point A to point B, are just as necessary in our understanding of ourselves and each other in the grand scheme of things. This is a collection of Jughead/Toni fic centered on the growth and development of their relationship as shown on Riverdale. Starts with 2x11 and will progress from there.





	1. to know me as hardly golden is to know me all wrong - 2x11

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everyone! Welcome to Snapshots in a Frame. My goal for this collection is to work through my understanding of these two characters episode by episode. It will primarily focus on their relationship, but I'm also interested in who they are as individuals so do expect a lot of introspection from them. Admittedly, I'm more comfortable in Jughead's POV but I do plan to work in Toni's POV as well considering this work is about both of them. She's quite a complex character, so it will be fun learning how to pin down her voice and patterns of thinking and behavior. I think that's kind of the joy of fanfic writing, learning how you interpret these characters and seeing what you can bring to life through their voices and growth. You learn a lot in the process, and I definitely think I'll learn alot about voice development working on this project. I hope you all enjoy!
> 
> The chapter title is from [The Funeral by Band of Horses](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lG7yaCE37Ro)

Jughead chooses the Swords & Serpents classroom to show Toni his article because the space feels like _theirs_. In all of Riverdale High, it is the one place where he can be himself without fear of ridicule. Toni may roll her eyes at him, Sweet Pea might punch him in the arm, Fangs may throw a potato chip at him but they won’t mock him for the things he says or thinks or does. And, if he’s honest, there’s a part of him that wants to have this moment alone with her. With the school change, they’ve all been trying to adjust. For him, it’s been getting used to being a pariah again but for Toni and the other Serpents, it’s been a lesson in figuring out what they want to do now that they have options. Jughead misses what they were when things were simple. Shitty but simple. Now most days he doesn’t know how long he’ll be able to hold on to their ragtag group of misfits. Or if they’ll come a time when he’s the only misfit left and everything returns to what it was before he found a family and a home in the Serpents. Simply shitty, nothing more and nothing less until Archie or Betty decide to pay him any mind or attention. And if that happens, he can add Toni, Sweet Pea, and Fangs to the list of people who may remember he exists when they’re not too busy fitting in.

Sharing the article with Toni doesn't go the way he thought it would. He expected some constructive criticism and commiserating over Northsiders and their privilege and how it's about time Riverdale owns up to the truth about its past and how it affects their present. But what he gets is a clear statement on just how far he's overstepped. Jughead can place the moment he crossed the line through the rising pitch of Toni’s voice and the disbelief he sees cross her face before disappointment settles in its stead. Every word she says about his anger and its connection to the Northside is true but he doesn't see Thomas Topaz as a prop for his own pain and he doesn't want Toni to think that he'd do that to her grandfather. 

With a push off the table, Jughead quickly grabs his bag and follows after her. She's nearly down the hallway before he catches up to her, unwilling to call her name and be ignored or bring attention to his hurry to catch her. While the corridor isn't full, it's not empty either and he'd rather not have an audience for a conversation that should stay between them instead of leaking through the halls and from the mouths of people he can barely tolerate on a good day. 

Toni stops when he stands in front of her blocking her way. She folds her arms and waits, all the ease she usually displays with him gone and replaced with discomfort and tension but at least she's looking at him.

Jughead adjusts the strap of his messenger bag before speaking, “I didn't intend--”

“Your intentions don't matter,” Toni says, her words chewed up and bitten off as if she’s holding back what she really wants to say. As if there’s more truth that she wants to throw at him but doesn’t think he deserves to hear.

“Don't say that.” 

Intentions do matter, at least to Jughead. He's a screw-up. He knows this but every decision he's ever made has been with the best of intentions no matter how they turned out in the end. If intentions don't matter then there’s nothing he can do to fix this and he desperately wants to go back to the amused smirk that’s a near permanent presence on Toni’s face. There’s a frown that sits in its place now, deeper than the one she used to wear whenever he tried to defend his friends from her judgement when it came to the indefensible, though inadvertent, repercussions of their actions and how they seemed to always land at the doorstep of the Southside and its residents. He wasn’t defending the Northside but in defending his friends he was proving her point about their privilege and how nothing seems to stick to the kids born on the “right” side of the tracks. 

“There is nothing else to say.”

“Yes, there is,” he says. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I was just trying to--”

“You were trying to be heard,” Toni says. “The problem is that you chose to co-opt my grandfather’s story to serve your own purpose.”

“I have a platform with the Blue & Gold,” Jughead says trying to keep his voice steady and calm despite the frustration he can feel rising in himself. His frustration isn’t toward Toni but with the sinking feeling that an apology may not be enough to rectify his mistake. “Shouldn’t I be using it to talk about the things no one in this town wants to deal with or acknowledge?”

Toni laughs. It’s ugly and full of her discontent. The sound of it makes Jughead tighten his grip on the strap of his messenger bag almost as if to brace himself for what she’s about to say.

“Did you do that with this article, Jug,” she asks. “Or did you just grab the megaphone to amplify your own voice using my history?”

Jughead doesn’t say anything at first. He can’t find the words to explain himself. Apologies play over in a loop in his head but he could say ‘I’m sorry’ ‘til he’s blue in the face and it doesn’t seem like it’d change anything for Toni. Still he apologizes again because it’s all he has.  
Stepping closer, Toni unfolds arms. Her expression shifts to one of sadness as she bites her lip and looks down. Her shoe scuffs across the floor as she places her hands on her hips with a sigh before looking back up at him.

“Forsythe,” Toni begins. “You have always wanted to belong. You say you don’t but you do. I see you, and I hear you. And all I’ve ever wanted is to have that, too.”

Eyes wide, Jughead reaches for her but she moves back, so he lets his hand hover in the space between them before it falls dejectedly to his side. “I do see and hear you, Toni.”

“No,” Toni says with a shake of her head. “When you look at me you see yourself, and when I speak you hear yourself. That is not the same thing as seeing me or hearing me. We are not the same.”

Jughead swallows words on how they are, on how each member of the Serpents fit together. How they’re all a unit, a family. How she taught him that community comes first before the individual. How they all have their own voice but together they are stronger and better than they are apart. Everything he knows about being a Serpent comes from her. When he thinks about their gang, Toni’s the first person he thinks of after his father. He does see her and does hear her. He just didn’t think of her or how she’d feel about the way he portrayed her grandfather or her heritage. All he thought about was justice but now he's not sure for whom.

“I don’t need to belong,” she continues. “I just want to be seen. To be heard. For my voice to count among the masses and for my history not be erased or co-opted for anyone else’s agenda. I’ve always known Riverdale’s history. It’s the history of America. There’s not a spot in this country that didn’t use to belong to its native people. You’re the one who just arrived to the table and instead of sitting and listening decided to stand on a chair and scream about reparations and what’s due as if you know anything about that.”

The bell rings before Jughead can say anything. As the hall fills up and he stands looking at Toni, he feels bereft and disconnected. She slips past him--her voice carrying just enough to inform him that she won’t be at S&S today--and disappears into the crowd.

\----

The door chimes when Jughead pushes it open. He’s treated to part of the standard greeting for customers who enter Sweete’s Corner Shop before Sweet Pea cuts himself off upon registering who he’s welcoming.

“Oh, it’s just you,” he says, his voice dipping low on the ‘you’ and just shy of disdain. 

Jughead supposes he deserves that, but he presses on because no matter what he deserves there has to be some way of making amends. 

“Is Toni working today,” he asks, though he already knows the answer. She’s not the type to skip out on work just because she’s upset. One, she’d never just bail on the Sweete’s family and two, she needs the money. Still he asks the question because it’s the step he should take and Jughead is trying do the things he should instead of exactly what he wants. Doing the latter is what got him in trouble with her in the first place. 

“Depends on whether or not you’re going to be an asshole,” Fangs says as he comes up an aisle, two big boxes weighing down his arms.

“I’m already an asshole,” Jughead says. “But I can promise to be less of a jackass.”

Fangs smiles a little at that and puts the boxes down by the register.

Sweet Pea’s face performs a precarious, contradictory juggling act of being both amused and irritated. “Look, JP,” he says. “You shat in it. Toni is back in delivery sorting through boxes. She hates that but it’s literally the only thing I can give her without fear of a customer’s feelings being hurt and my family losing business. I blame you and your stupid article.”

“My article’s not stupid,” Jughead says defensively. 

“No, it’s stupid,” Fangs says. “And poorly executed and has managed to piss Paz off. You think anything that has made her mad can be considered smart?”

Jughead doesn’t answer. Call it pride or stubbornness but while he’s willing to admit he overstepped, he can’t say his writing was bad. He doesn’t believe it was, just maybe fueled by an anger that didn’t truly belong to him even though at the time it felt like it did.

Neither Sweet Pea nor Fangs stop him from heading to the back. He knocks before entering the delivery room.

“Enter at your own peril,” Toni warns.

He can’t see her. There are boxes everywhere, and Toni isn’t the tallest tree in the forest. She’s not even the mediumest which isn’t a word but an Archieism that has refused to leave his vocabulary because of its usefulness in description. When he’d taught Toni the term, she’d reciprocated by introducing him to the word ‘smedium.’ They’d laughed over the ridiculousness of the English language and then launched straight into a discussion of linguistics. Toni loves languages and etymology as much as she loves photography and art. Talking to her and learning from her have been the best parts of getting to know her. That’s what he should have told her in the hallway earlier instead of freezing under her scrutiny. 

“Sweets,” Toni begins, stepping from behind a column of boxes with a clipboard in her hand. “I told you that it’d take me at least two hours to finish inventorying. I don’t need you checking up on me, I’m fine.”

Jughead stays quiet and takes in the sight of her, head bent over her clipboard. She’s got Sweet Pea’s hoodie on, the sleeves catching on her hands, the hood hiding most of her hair from view. As usual whenever she wears converse, her shoelaces are loopy, big, and in danger of coming untied. Toni looks like she always looks to him, inviting but intimidating. Hovering somewhere between the girl he imagines she was before throwing her lot in with a gang and the stalwart Serpent she’s steeled herself into by necessity.

When she lifts her head, he sees that the kohl around her eyes is smudged a bit. Probably from rubbing her eyes while working. He’s noticed she does that sometimes when her mind is occupied, and she’s trying to refocus on the task at hand. 

Toni doesn’t say anything and barely acknowledges him as she passes. She sets her clipboard on the table in the corner cluttered with junk and then lifts herself to sit on its surface and waits.

Jughead takes a deep breath in before turning to face her. “So, you’re not only avoiding me,” he says. “You’re not speaking to me either?”

“We’re not children,” Toni says. “I just don’t feel like being around you or talking to you right now. I don’t need to explain why you already know why, so we don’t need to talk about it, and I don’t need to see you in the meantime.”

“How am I supposed to fix this if I can’t talk to you or see you?”

“Fix this,” Toni scoffs and looks to the side. “You didn’t break anything, Jughead. We’re not fractured or whatever excessively dramatic action verb you want to use. I’m disappointed, that’s it.”

“And I’m sorry,” Jughead says.

Toni growls under her breath and claps her hands together. “Okay,” she says. “Your sorry. I get that but no matter how many times you give me your hat in hand routine, I’m still going to be disappointed.”

“What can I do, Toni,” he asks. He needs to know because the school day has been lonelier than usual. She’s who he talks to most, has been for months now. There are all these Toni-sized spaces in his life that she fills that are vacant and it’s starting to make him feel empty, too. In a small way, it’s like a condensed version of when Archie dropped him over the summer. Suddenly he was alone, and though it hasn’t necessarily been like that without Toni, the feeling is similar and he hates that feeling.

“It’s not about what you do,” she says. “It’s about how you think. Or really how you don’t think. Everything zeroes down to you. How you feel. What you need.”

“Well, how do you feel? What do you need?”

Toni hops down from the table and grabs her clipboard. “If you have to ask, Jughead, then you still aren’t hearing me.”

“Damn it, Toni,” Jughead says. “I do hear you. I fucked up. I just want to unfuck this situation. I told you I’m sorry. I…” he trails off, registering the increasing blankness of Toni’s usually expressive face. “I--,” he starts again before cutting himself off as realization hits him.

“I’m still making this about me,” he says, softly.

“Yep,” Toni says just as soft.

“Your grandfather deserves an apology.”

“Mhmm.”

“I should go.”

“I’d like that, yeah,” Toni says, holding the clipboard to her chest.

Jughead tries not to let her words sting but the most he can do is keep a wince from his face. He goes to leave but stops before his hand turns the doorknob. “Antonia,” he says, turning around.

Toni stops but doesn’t turn to face him.

“I do hear you,” Jughead says. “I just need to work on listening.”

“Yes, you do,” she says and then disappears behind a column of boxes.

Jughead’s grateful for Fangs being at the register when he leaves instead of Sweet Pea. His friend gives him a two finger salute as a goodbye and a reassuring smile which he appreciates. 

Stepping out on the pavement, Jughead feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. It’s a text from Toni telling him to meet her at her grandfather’s on Saturday at 10. His shoulders sag with relief and then he remembers that it’s Wednesday which means he has two full days to go before he can even begin mending the rift between him and Toni.

“Just do what you’re told, Jones,” he grumbles under his breath to himself. “For once, just listen and do what you’re told.”

Jughead texts, ‘I’ll be there,’ in response and then hefts his bag on his shoulder and heads home.


	2. you and i suit distance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Toni presses the edge of her phone and checks the time. Jughead’s suddenly got time for them, so she’s made time for him, but her patience is thin. Ever since the article he published they’ve been on shaky ground. He may not feel it, but she does. It’s in every conversation they have now. Running tension thrumming through her sentences as she tries not to gnash her teeth. 
> 
> set during 2x15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few days ago, I posted over on asoldierwitch that I didn't think I had the words anymore to channel Toni's anger toward Jughead's continuous overstepping of bounds then 2x15 happened lol. I am not a fan of how much Toni's been absent from a story line that directly affects her and her community. This chapter is an attempt at working through those feelings and making sense of her absence. I'm not all the way satisfied with it but I do like the work that I was attempting here with Toni's POV, and I'm happy I was finally able to get the words out. Let me know what you think.
> 
> chapter title from Golden October by All the Luck in the World

Toni presses the edge of her phone and checks the time. Jughead’s suddenly got time for them, so she’s made time for him, but her patience is thin. Ever since the article he published they’ve been on shaky ground. He may not feel it, but she does. It’s in every conversation they have now. Running tension thrumming through her sentences as she tries not to gnash her teeth. She’s taken to stirring her straw in her chocolate milk at lunch whenever he deigns to pop by before making a beeline for Red, Ponytail, and Pearls. The concentric circles are calming and it’s something for her to concentrate on as she nods and waits for him to leave.

Right now though all she has is the tapping of her nails against the desk and her lack of a fuck as Sweet Pea tells her to cut it out. She flips him off, one gleaming red nail in the light. Red like most of Cheryl’s clothing. Red like a stop sign. She likes it just like she’s beginning to like the flaming bombshell of a girl she’s gotten to see a different side of these last few weeks. Toni’s always been a sucker for girls with fire on their tongues and sad eyes. Can’t help herself. Megaphone, megawatt, marvelous girls that the world likes to crush because they’re loud and unapologetic about it. The kind of girls that burn bright and burn fast. Girls like that need protecting, and Toni doesn’t mind being the protector. Likes it even. Sometimes a shield can be more powerful than a sword. She needed that and she got it through the Serpents. Cheryl can get it through her if she wants, it’s not like she’s got anything better to do anyway.

Jughead whirls in like a cyclone. A gust of energy at times that boy. It makes Toni’s lips twitch with a smile before she catches herself. She suppresses her urge to say hello, crossing her arms instead as she settles in and waits like everyone else.

“Hey,” Jughead says, gently laying his messenger bag down before plopping onto the edge of the teacher’s desk. “Sorry, I’m late.”

“You’re always late,” Sweet Pea says carving out a slice of apple and taking a bite. “Whatcha want, JP?”

“Justice,” he says, with a straight face and Toni can’t help but roll her eyes.

“What crusade are you on now,” she asks.

For a split second Jughead looks confused at her tone, but he pushes on and pulls out a bright yellow demolition notice from his bag.

“You’ve seen this, right,” he says thrusting the piece of paper forward like it’s exhibit A in a criminal case. “They moved up the timeline.”

“And,” Fangs says with a shrug, taking the slice of apple that Sweet Pea hands him. “Whether it’s this week or six weeks from now, South Side High is dunzo, bro.”

“But it shouldn’t be,” Jughead insists. “It shouldn’t have been closed in the first place.”

“Well, it was,” Toni says, shifting in her seat. “The rest of us said goodbye to South Side awhile ago, why haven’t you?”

“Because it’s the core of the South Side.”

“The core,” Toni mutters under her breath like a scoff.

“Yeah,” Jughead says. “The Uctana fought to protect that land. Our parents fought to protect it during the riots. Now it’s our turn. We’re no better than the Lodges if we sit back and let this happen. Haven’t they taken enough from us? I say if they want a war then we should give it to them. Who’s with me?”

Toni doesn’t turn to see who raises their hands. She doesn’t care. Her arms stay folded as Jughead surveys the room with a satisfied smirk before his eyes land on her and that smirk beats a quick retreat.

“Toni?”

“We need the room guys,” she says, eyes never leaving Jughead’s.

“Paz, what--”

“The room, Sweet Pea.”

From the corner of her eye, Toni can see the look Sweet Pea and Fangs exchange before Sweet Pea jerks his head toward the door. When they get up so do the rest, filing out while looking curiously at her and Jughead. Toni ignores them and waits until the last Serpent closes the door behind them.

“Toni, what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” she says, unfolding her arms. 

“They why,” he asks, hands gesturing toward the door.

“Let me clarify,” she says. “By nothing I mean there’s nothing going on here. As in you haven’t called an S&S meeting in a month. You’ve done jack shit with us, Jughead, and the first time you want to it’s so you can put us in chains for show and parade us in front of a school we didn’t give a fuck about in the first place? I’d say that’s a bunch of bullshit nothing.”

There’s something satisfying that slithers into Toni’s belly at the way Jughead reels back. It’s vindicating almost. Very few people actually push back against Jughead and his ideas. Sure, they hem and they haw but eventually they fall in line or come to see things his way. It’s what’s going to make him a good Serpent King one day, it’s also going to be what causes her to break ranks when she feels he’s got his head up his ass as he does right now.

“Toni, you of all people should be with me on this.”

She nods. “Right because I’m a poor Uctana from the south side.”

“That’s not what--”

“That’s the truth, Jughead. If you can stand in front of me and tell me what my people did as if I’m unaware then you can stand and acknowledge that’s what you meant.”

He looks away from her, nostrils flaring.

“Oh, am I making you uncomfortable,” Toni asks, standing. “I’m sorry I thought you wanted to discuss how I’m perfect for this protest of yours.”

“Don’t do that. Don’t be sarcastic.”

“Then don’t be the asshole who wants to check off my identity boxes for me and teach me all about how I can weaponize intersectionality.”

“God, Toni, what’s your problem?”

“My problem,” she says with a laugh. “I don’t know, Jug. What could my problem possibly be? Let’s go through the list, shall we? My friend, who’s been M.I.A. since he got back in Little Miss Perfect’s pants, suddenly wants to spend some quality time with his gang because he has an agenda that needs seeing to. And does that friend stop to ask us how we feel about what’s going on in our community? Mmm...no. Then that same friend tries to tell me that I of all people should be with him when he hasn’t once asked me what it is that I might want to do if anything at all. I am not the poster child for the oppressed in Riverdale, Jughead. I’m not your mouthpiece; I’m your friend and frankly I’m sick of your shit.”

“You’re sick of my shit,” Jughead repeats with a nod. “Well, at least your sick of something, Toni, because you seem pretty fine otherwise. I mean our community’s being bought up piece by piece but you seem to be too busy trailing behind Cheryl to care.”

“Oh, you are such a hypocrite, Jughead Jones,” she says, grabbing her bag, ready to be done with this conversation. “I’m not the one having lunch with Veronica Lodge every day nor am I the one who’s bitter about being born on the wrong side of the tracks and feels this deep-seated need to prove how above it all I am when all I really want is to fit in with the people I claim to despise so much.”

“Go to hell, Toni.”

“You first,” she says, rushing past him and slamming the door behind her as she leaves.

“Hey, whoa, Paz,” Sweet Pea says jogging to catch up with her. “Slow down will you?”

“No.”

“Toni, seriously.”

She whirls around, hair whipping over her shoulder. “What?”

Sweet Pea puts his hands up, placating, eyes wide. “You okay?”

Fangs sidles up next to Sweet Pea, punches him in the shoulder. “Clearly not, Sweets. I told you to wait.”

“You two checking up on me now,” Toni asks, foot tapping, arms crossed.

“Ah, you like it,” Fangs says, turning her around by her shoulders and marching down the hallway with her tucked under his arm. “Now tell Papa Fogarty what happened.”

“Ew,” Toni says, screwing up her face and pushing him away. “I’m not calling you that.”

“No one does,” Sweet Pea says with a roll of his eyes and grabs the teetering Fangs and pulls him into his side. “Come here, stupid.”

“You’re stupid,” Fangs says in replies but doesn’t brush Sweet Pea’s arm off his shoulder.

“You’re both stupid,” Toni says. “In more ways than one. Why do you want to chain yourselves to the piss stain that was South Side High?”

“Because they want to make it into a prison,” Sweet Pea says with a sneer. “Talk about school to prison pipeline.” 

“But that’s not Jughead’s point,” Toni reminds him.

“Yeah, Jug wants the school to be reopened,” Fangs says. “Lunacy, I know. But just because he’s the one organizing the protest doesn’t mean his reasons have to be our reasons for being there.”

“Don’t they though,” she asks, pushing open the door to the student parking lot. “When has Jughead ever not steamrolled everybody into his own idealism?”

Fangs raises an eyebrow. “Okay, so you’re not feeling him right now.”

Toni sighs, fidgeting with her bag’s strap. “He does this all the time. He cares when it’s convenient, when it makes a story and he can be self-righteous about something. I don’t want the prison either but chaining myself to a school that I hated isn’t going to stop it from being built.”

“It’s better than nothing, Toni,” Sweet Pea says.

“You sure about that, Sweets? Because I’m not,” Toni says, looking out at the cars leaving before turning back to Sweet Pea. “Look, if anyone besides Hermione Lodge decides to throw their hat in to the ring for mayor I’ll start making some noise but right now all we have is the devil nipping at our heels. I can’t afford their attention. I’m homeless as it is and Hiram Lodge owns the land my grandfather and my uncle’s trailers sit on. Not all of us have a stable home to go to that the Lodge’s can’t touch, guys.”

“T, you still haven’t told Old Thomas that your uncle kicked you out,” Fangs says. His concern makes Toni feel exposed like she’s standing out in this winter weather sans coat shivering like a helpless thing beneath the sun. She hates it.

“No,” she says avoiding his eyes. “Don’t look at me like that. Gramps has his health to worry about. He can barely take care of himself, I’m not going to add to his troubles.”

“Where have you been crashing then,” Sweet Pea asks. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Toni growls softly as she yanks gloves onto her hands and slips a beanie over her hair. “I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d get all indignant and offer to let me stay with you.”

“Is that such a bad thing?”

“No, but I’m sick of imposing on your family. You, too, Fangs. I know your brother doesn’t mind, but I do.”

Sweet Pea sniffs, runs a pink hand beneath a pinker nose. “You didn’t seem to mind staying at JP’s a few months ago.”

Toni blanches, recovering slower than she’d like. “Th-that was different. FP was in jail; it was just the two of us.”

Sweet Pea hums. “Right.”

She narrows her eyes. “Sweets, what are you--”

A car’s horn honks twice interrupting Toni’s sentence. 

Cheryl’s cherry red car pulls up to the sidewalk, top down despite the chill in the air. 

“TT,” she says cheerily with a jaunty wave from behind her steering wheel. “A girl could murder for a milkshake. Join me?”

“For the murder or the milkshake,” Toni says, teasing.

Cheryl shrugs smile widening. “Whichever comes first.”

Toni laughs and signals for her to give her one minute before turning back to her boys who both have their eyebrows raised. 

“Shut up,” Toni says, beating back a smile. “I’ve gotta go. Yes, before you ask I’ve got a place to stay tonight. And yes, one the day after that. I’m crashing at the Wyrm, Bev said it’s cool. Heat, electricity, food. Got my bases covered, okay?”

Sweet Pea doesn’t say anything just looks over at Cheryl who’s checking her lipstick in her rear view mirror and then back at Toni.

“Okay,” she asks again.

“Okay,” Fangs says, smooshing Toni’s beanie down so it falls over her eyes. She retaliates by punching him in the gut, lightly, but still enough for him to know he annoyed her. It only serves to make Fangs wheeze through a laugh before shoving her playfully. “Go get your cherry, T,” he says.

Toni rolls her eyes and then looks up at Sweet Pea with a sigh. She stands on her toes and kisses him on the cheek. “I’m good. I promise,” she says. “Now go get warm somewhere and stop worrying about me. You’re gonna freeze out here.”

“I’ve got gloves,” Sweet Pea grumbles.

“Then wear them,” Toni says, giving him a quick hug around the neck before dropping down on her heels. “And stay safe, okay. Don’t do anything stupid at the protest and don’t let Jughead do anything stupid either. I mean it.”

“Yes, mom.”

“Good boy,” she says tapping his cheek and moving out of his reach with a laugh as he grabs for her. 

Running down the steps, Toni pulls open Cheryl’s car door and slides right in like she belongs.

“Your cheeks are red like apples,” Cheryl says in greeting, she presses a button on her dash and the roof starts to raise. “Pretty red apples,” she mutters under breath before busying herself with rolling the windows up, too.

Toni mouths, “Bye,” to Sweet Pea and Fangs before turning her attention to Cheryl who asks only for her time and her company and none of her ire. “Milkshakes?”

“Milkshakes,” Cheryl says, eyes lighting up at the thought of the treat. They exit the parking lot and Toni lets herself get lost in their conversation letting it push thoughts of protests and prisons far from her mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is very much appreciated. If you'd like to drop me a line or a prompt, you can find me over @asoldierwitch on tumblr. Thank you for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Kudos and feedback are most appreciated. If you'd like to drop me a line you can find me [@asoldierwitch](https://asoldierwitch.tumblr.com/) on tumblr.


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